


A few steps into the open doorway, heart pounding

by kaleidoscopeminds



Series: Tumblr Prompt Ficlets [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Sort Of, Tumblr Prompt, alcohol mention, bit cheeky tagging calum and ashton when they speak approximately 3 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidoscopeminds/pseuds/kaleidoscopeminds
Summary: It's been three weeks. Three weeks since they stopped this. Or that Luke supposes it is now. Whatever that was.Three weeks of fighting the natural response to slip into Michael’s hotel room when he can’t sleep, under the pretense of looking for company but actually just craving Michael. Three weeks since he’s had the feeling of Michael’s lips pressing against his, tongue slipping between and searching his mouth in an intoxicatingly familiar way.Written for the prompt "a hoarse whisper of kiss me"
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Series: Tumblr Prompt Ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981132
Kudos: 17





	A few steps into the open doorway, heart pounding

**Author's Note:**

> my first ever muke for the lovely iba!! Including a specific request for a sprinkling of angst.

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since they stopped this. Or _that_ Luke supposes it is now. Whatever it or that was. 

Three weeks of fighting the natural response to slip into Michael’s hotel room when he can’t sleep, under the pretence of looking for company but actually just craving Michael. Three weeks since he’s had the feeling of Michael’s lips pressing against his, tongue slipping between and searching his mouth in an intoxicatingly familiar way. Three weeks since Luke last found himself underneath him.

But really what was three weeks in comparison to four years of stumbling into each other’s rooms or bunks when drunk or bored or just needing someone. It was the pattern of things. Until it wasn’t.

Luke groans frustratedly and rolls out of bed. He tries to remember where he is in the world right now but he hasn’t got a clue, can’t remember the name of the hotel, what city he shouted into the microphone not 5 hours ago. He blinks blearily at the digital clock flashing obnoxiously at him from the other side of the bed, 3:23AM it reads. He got back a couple of hours ago, drunk but not quite as drunk as he wanted to be. He hadn’t even wanted to really go out in the first place, Michael having already slipped away to the hotel before he could catch him, but Calum had tugged his arm, pressed a bottle of something into Luke’s hand and Luke had gone along because that’s what he does, and fuck knows he needed the distraction, even for a couple of hours. 

Being out hadn’t really been a distraction though, thoughts of pale, tattooed hands and pink lips invading his thoughts every time a pretty girl flirted their way towards him. Calum had shrugged and agreed when Luke said he wanted to leave, had sat with him in comforting silence in the cab, and had given him a kind but knowing look as he’d hesitated for a second outside their hotel rooms, body automatically trying to take him to Michael rather than his own room. Calum always saw too much when it came to Luke and Michael, pretending along with them but full of meaningful looks of reproach when it became obvious what the two of them were doing.

Luke pulls himself from his thoughts and stumbles to his ensuite to take a piss, trying to ignore the way that his whole being craves another person when he lies alone in his bed. Tries to convince himself that it is in fact just a craving for a person rather than one person in particular. His brain betrays him and takes him back to that night that Michael had stopped it.

_Michael pulled away from Luke’s arms with shaking hands, slipping out from under the sheets and pulling on his boxers._

_“We shouldn’t do this anymore,” He whispered into the dark, not looking at Luke._

_“What?” Luke had murmured back, a sinking feeling in his stomach._

_“This, us, whatever the fuck is happening here,” Michael huffed, pushing his hand through his hair._

_“Michael—” Luke started, reaching for the other man, but Michael had stepped back out of Luke’s grip._

_“No it’s not —” Michael sighed and scrubbed both his hands over his face, “We should stop,” He repeated._

_Luke sat up and tried to fight down the panic that was trying to claw its way out of his throat at the thought of not having this with Michael anymore._

_“Mikey I don’t understand,” He said, Michael still refusing to look at him._

_“I think you should go Luke,” Michael had said quietly, turning away again._

_“What?”_

_“Please leave.”_

_And Luke had clambered out of the bed, finding his boxers and sweatpants, pulling them on with unsteady hands, heart racing. He’d turned back to Michael intending to say something to him, to try to change his mind, or to get him to explain or **something** , but Luke did what he always does and just closed his mouth again, and retreated back to his own room that had been previously unused._

Three weeks. Three weeks of trying to navigate a relationship with Michael that wasn’t ever how it had been, wasn’t ever what he wanted it to be. The strain on the band had been substantial, Calum throwing him dirty looks whenever possible, “I told you so’s” almost palpable in the way his eyes narrowed at the awkward way they danced around each other. Ashton, normally wilfully oblivious to Luke and Michael, telling Luke to “fix it” in a low voice a week ago. Luke doesn’t know what the fuck he’s supposed to do when Michael hasn’t spoken a single word to him since that night, and he doesn’t know how it’s his problem when Michael had broken up with him. Not broken up, Luke thinks to himself. They can’t be broken up because they were never together, that was the whole point.

Luke tries to tell himself that he doesn’t need Michael, that they were only friends with benefits to begin with, but now he’s lost the friend bit too, and it’s that thought which has him ripping open his door at 3:25AM and walking down the corridor to Michael’s room. He knocks and waits, he knows Michael will be awake. He hears shuffling noises on the other side of the door but it doesn’t open.

“Mikey please,” Luke presses his head against the door. “Can we talk?”

There’s another pause and then the door slowly opens to reveal Michael.

Luke takes one look at him, hair flopping in his eyes, sweatshirt drooping over his hands where he’s rubbing his eyes and blinking slowly at Luke, and basically tackles him backward, wrapping his long limbs around his body, pressing Michael against him. He feels Michael’s breaths shake in his arms, his own hands coming up to grip at Luke’s bare shoulder and hip.

“I miss you, I miss you,” Luke whimpers into the side of Michael’s head.

“Luke,” Michael whispers out against his neck.

Luke pulls back to look at Michael, the way his eyes are shining with something he can’t put his finger on.

“Kiss me,” Luke whispers hoarsely. “Please.”

Michael leans forward as if on instinct and presses his lips to Luke’s. Luke hums and pulls Michael impossibly closer before Michael rips himself away, gasping a little.

“No, we shouldn’t,” he says shakily. “We can’t, I can’t.”

“Mikey,” Luke pulls him closer again, looking at him pleadingly. “Michael, please.”

Something seems to flick in Michael’s head and he slams his lips back on Luke’s, licking forcefully into his mouth, nipping his lip like he’s trying to devour him. Luke gives it back with everything he’s got and starts to peel off Michael’s sweatshirt.

Luke knows in the back of his mind that they need to talk, that this doesn’t mean they’re back to where they were, whatever that was. Maybe tomorrow he’ll be able to tell Michael how his head and heart yearns for him whenever he’s not there, that Michael occupies every available space in his head. Maybe he’ll be able to tell him that he wants all of him, not just the bits that he claims in the cover of darkness between sheets and whimpers and whispered conversations. But fuck if he won’t take what he can get for tonight, he’ll take everything that Michael is willing to give him.


End file.
